“Ye are a maddenin’ woman, Isabelle,” he said, voice dark, voice like gravel and whiskey, and the fire in him raged beneath the surface. “Ye dinnae ken what ye do to me. So I will show ye.”
With those words he pivoted toward her and pulled his kilt up revealing his hardened staff.
Isabelle responded with a gasp.
“I… What… is...”
“Och, suddenly the lass is without words,” he said.
“It’s… I…” she whispered.
“Aye, it is. This is what ye do to me. I keep me word to nae consummate our marriage ’til ye are ready, but there are other ways to please yer laird, wife,” he groaned.
“There are?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Indeed, watch me and learn, wife,” he said.
He wrapped his hand around his rigid member and slid it up and down. Her eyes grew wider, and her lips trembled.
Declan fully enjoyed performing in front of her. He moved his hand slowly and deliberately.
“Ye want me to… that is, am I to do that?” she asked.
“Aye, lass. Nothin’ would please yer laird more in this moment,” he said.
He watched as she gulped, her eyes darting back and forth between his hard staff and his eyes. Then he extended his handto hers. She softly placed it in his, and he guided it onto him. A whisper of a breath escaped her.
Declan sighed feeling her hand on his manhood. “Yer mere touch drives me toward bliss,” he observed.
“I am not confident I ken what to do,” she said.
“Like this,” he explained.
He moved his hand on top of hers, sliding it up and down his rod. Before long, he removed his guidance and let her do it.
“Ah, lass. Yer hand feels so good,” he groaned.
With that encouragement, she moved a little faster, and he wondered if all women knew instinctively how to please.
He locked eyes with her, allowing his eyes to roam from hers to her lips and back again. Then down to her heaving chest, bouncing gently as her hand moved. His lust for her drove him to the edge.
“I am going to release,” he groaned.
With that he spilled his seed with a loud moan that shook the room.
“And now, it is me turn to please ye, wife,” he said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
And now it is me turn to please ye, wife.
Isabelle’s breath caught as Declan’s words echoed in her mind. A nervousness passed through her. It was all too much to take in at once.
First the sight of his nude form, then of his rigid flesh. It had utterly shocked her. However, touching him and bringing him to bliss pleased her greatly.
He drew her close, his arms strong around her. His lips found hers in a kiss that was fierce and demanding yet strangely tender beneath the fire.
She felt warmth spread through her chest, every nerve alive under the press of his hands, the heat of his body pressed against hers. Her fingers tangled in his long hair, holding him closer, wanting to memorize the strength and presence of him.
